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Her Majesty’s Swarm - Volume 2 - Chapter 3




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High Society 

Following our extermination of the griffin and the manticore, we tackled a few more difficult quests. Thanks to that, we became famous not only in Marine, but throughout the Dukedom of Schtraut as well. As it turned out, however, not everyone was pleased about this. 

“So yer the adventurers who been stealin’ the show these days, huh?” 

One day, when we left the inn and headed for the guild, we were cornered by a group of men in an alleyway. They all wore cheap leather armor and hostile expressions. 

“I don’t know that we’ve stolen anything from anyone, but we certainly are adventurers,” I said to the one who’d called out to us. 

“Don’t be playin’ coy with me, missy. You and yer friends here have been eatin’ up all o’ the toughest quests, but the rest of us have been strugglin’ to find work because o’ you. Thanks to you people, the guild’s only fillin’ up with really difficult quests now. Get it?” 

Oh. They’re trying to blame us for their own ineptitude. 

“So what? Get another job, then. I’m sure people like you can find plenty of good work.” 

“Are you looking down on us?!” Incensed at my attitude, the man whipped out a blade. 

“Is that your way of saying you’re looking for a fight?” 

“Just teachin’ you a li’l lesson, that’s all.” He twirled the sword through the air. “Maybe you’ll learn your place if I cut up that pretty face o’ yours.” 

“Sérignan, take care of them.” 

“By your will.” Sérignan stood between myself and the band of thugs. 

“So you wanna go first, eh?! You asked for it!” He lifted up his longsword... 

...and a moment later, his arms fell to the ground, severed from the rest of his body. 

“Aaaahhhh! What the hell?!” 

Before anyone could blink, the heads of the five men who’d decided to pick a fight with us were flying through the air. The pavement was splattered with fresh blood. 

Obviously, there were no survivors. 

Their bodies crumpled to the ground, twitching. The alleyway looked like a scene straight out of a slasher film. 

“I get the feeling people are going to keep picking fights with us from here on out,” I said with a sigh. 

“They may try, if they want to lose their heads,” Sérignan spat. 

Being famous sure is troublesome. 

“Anyway, let’s go to the guild already. We’ve got to focus on gathering information.” 

We could learn all sorts of things at the Adventurers’ Guild, such as how much the citizens of Schtraut knew about the situation in the old Kingdom of Maluk, how international relations might’ve shifted, and any changes in Schtraut’s internal affairs. 

“Oh, hello, Miss Grevillea! We’ve been waiting for you!” The receptionist lady greeted us with a wide smile for some reason. 

“Err, is there a difficult quest you need us to handle?” 

“No, no. Something amazing happened! An important person from the state is here, and he wants to meet you!” 

Ugh. 

Had we stood out too much? Or was it something else? A number of dreadful possibilities arose in my mind, from us doing too well despite supposedly being Maluk refugees to us being overdue on taxes. 

Or... Oh no. Did Sérignan call me “Your Majesty” one too many times? But no, I could just say that’s a nickname, so it shouldn’t be a problem. If I were genuine royalty, my name would have been exposed as soon as I registered with the guild. If I were the kind of fairytale princess who shows up in disguise and magically starts taking care of a bunch of dirty work, I would definitely be some kind of celebrity by now. What could this person want from me, then? 

“Miss Grevillea? Are you all right?” 

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. What does this man want with me?” 

“I don’t know the details, but it seems he’s stepped forward to encourage your activities. Also, the Dukedom sometimes recruits prominent adventurers into their ranks. In fact, the guild has had multiple cases of promising adventurers going on to serve our country. As far as I know, the government makes them knights, but it is technically a noble title. Going from being an adventurer straight to nobility is a wonderful promotion!” 

Hmm. Getting too tangled up with this country means running quite a few risks, but there’s plenty to gain from this, too. 

“Oh, and he’s also invited you to a dinner party the day after tomorrow! It’s like a dream come true!” 

“A dinner party?” I tilted my head. 

“Yes! There are dinner parties held every now and then in Marine. The local merchant guild’s guildmaster and the high-ranking people in the city—or even the whole country—are some of the people you’ll find there. You have to be noble or really famous to get an invitation, and everyone wants to be a part of it. A common girl like me can only dream about it...” 

It’s probably not a party for gathering political contributions, then. 

“Meet with the official first,” she said, gesturing to one side. “He’ll be able to tell you what his business is with you much faster than I can.” 

“I suppose.” 

Arguing over this wouldn’t get me anywhere. I steeled my resolve and stepped forward to meet this... important person. 

 

“Miss Grevillea, I presume?” 

The one who greeted me was a middle-aged man with an impressive beard. 

“Yes. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?” 

“I can’t say I much approve of your attitude, but I’ll allow it out of respect for your position as a hero of the Adventurers’ Guild.” 

What a stuck-up old man. Almost gives me a run for my money in that department. 

“I am Count Basil de Buffon. I simply had to meet you after hearing of your striking achievements. However, I must admit I’m a bit surprised.” He took a half-step back and looked between Sérignan, Lysa, the Masquerade Swarm, and myself. “Your party is comprised almost entirely of women, and still you managed to defeat both a griffin and a manticore. How curious.” 

True, the Masquerade Swarm was the only man in the group... though it was actually a genderless creature to begin with. 

“Still, I can detect a slight whiff of blood on you. Is my mind playing tricks on me, perhaps?” 

“We were forced to cut down a group of hoodlums who tried to attack us earlier,” I explained coolly. “This city is really lacking in public order; it would be great if the local government could do something about it. We have to walk around the streets armed just to protect ourselves.” 

“Really now? It must be worse than I thought. Crime among the lower class has been a problem for some time now, but to think there are ruffians out there who would attempt to bring harm to a lovely young lady such as yourself... I’ll be sure to tell the mayor to put more effort into improving the situation.” 

Lord Buffon didn’t seem to care whether being attacked like that was enough justification to kill someone in self-defense. 

“Well, you wanted to meet us, and here we are. Are you satisfied, Lord Basil?” 

“Adventurers these days really are quite rude, aren’t they? Still, that dress you’re wearing is divine. Must have been made by a first-class craftsman.” 

You hear that, Worker Swarms? You’re first-class craftsmen now. Mommy’s so proud of you. 

“Pardon my boldness, but might you actually be some noble from Maluk who’s working as an adventurer to hide her background?” he asked. “From what I hear, many people lost their lives in the Kingdom of Maluk. The ones responsible for it are still at large, but people say it was some legion of monsters. No one knows which country unleashed them. If it was the Empire of Nyrnal, I can understand why you’d feel the need to hide your background. Any surviving nobles would likely be pursued by those savages.” 

“No, I’m nothing of the sort. Just your everyday adventurer.” 

“I’ve never seen a run-of-the-mill adventurer wear that kind of dress, though. That aside, these three must be your escorts, right?” 

It wouldn’t be good for him to suspect I was Maluk nobility. After all, I knew next to nothing about the country; we had simply waltzed in and destroyed it. 

“It is true. I am a knight in her service,” Sérignan said. 

“Ah, so it is true. Yes, it all makes sense.” 

I berated Sérignan through the collective consciousness, urging her to keep her mouth shut and not say anything that would land us in trouble. Feeling ashamed, she teared up a little. 

So cute... 

“I won’t ask you what sort of noble you were or what title you held. If the rumors are to be believed, the Kingdom of Maluk lies in ruins. The last thing I’d want is to cause you grief by dredging up painful memories of your homeland. I’ll leave things as they are until your wounds heal.” 

Oh. Now that’s a good idea right there. 

Next time someone asked me about Maluk, I could just pretend that they were triggering my traumatic memories. The way this man had effectively reinforced my own cover story without my having to lift a finger almost made me laugh out loud. 

“Incidentally, I’d like to ask something of you. Not as an adventurer, but as a noble from the Kingdom of Maluk.” 

“Sure. Let’s hear it.” 

What is it now? The dinner party? 

“I’ll be hosting a dinner party the day after tomorrow, and I’d be delighted if you could join us. The other higher-ups have their eyes on you after your many accomplishments, Miss Grevillea. It would be lovely if you could come and mingle with the rest of the guests.” 

So that really was it... I’m not much for these kinds of things, though. 

“Sure, I’ll be there. The day after tomorrow, right?” 

“Yes, during the evening.” 

“Could you possibly lend us two dresses and a tuxedo? I myself have an outfit suitable for a dinner party, but these three do not.” 

“That won’t be a problem at all, my lady. I own a clothing store, so you can leave that to me. If two dresses and a tuxedo are what you need, I’ll be sure to supply them.” 

Cool, then we’ll all be dressed for the occasion. 

“Where will the party be?” 

“Marine’s reception hall. Here are your invitations.” Lord Buffon handed one to each of us. 

“All right. Thank you for going to the trouble of inviting us personally. I hope we’ll be able to liven up the party.” 

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that. Your attendance alone is all I could ask for. I just want the guests to get a glimpse of our most famous adventurers.” 

Wait, what? What am I, a star attraction? 

“Fine. I’ll send these three over tomorrow to pick up their clothes. How much will I owe you for that?” 

“Please, there’s no need for you to give me a thing. I asked you to participate, after all. It’s only fair I cover the full sum.” 

Oh. I thought this old guy was fishy, but maybe he’s actually a decent person. Getting such generous treatment is making me think twice about destroying this country. 

“Let’s meet at the dinner party, then. Oh, and here’s the address for the clothing store. Follow these instructions, and you’ll find your way there.” 

Lord Buffon jotted down the directions on a piece of paper before leaving the premises. 

“Lysa, can you read this?” I asked her. 

“Yes,” Lysa replied, peering at the piece of paper. “It says the party will be held at the third block of Duke Louis’ Glory Road.” 

“Got it. Well, let’s head back for now; we’ve got work to do.” With that, I led my three escorts out of the guild. 

“Oh, Miss Grevillea! What did he want with you?” 

As we made to leave, the chatty receptionist lady called out to me. 

“He asked us to come to the dinner party. To bring in guests,” I said dryly. 

“Wow! That’s amazing! I can’t believe people from my guild are going to participate in one of those parties! This will go down in history! I’ll be cheering you on from behind the scenes, Miss Grevillea! Keep up the great work!” 

“I don’t know about it going down in history, but, erm, will the head of Schtraut be attending?” 

“Huh? You mean the duke? His Grace sometimes makes an appearance, but not always. I really can’t say, though I do hear he’s been busy lately.” 

Tch. And here I thought I’d have a chance to negotiate with this country’s leader directly. 

“Thanks for the information. We’ll be off, then.” 

“Okay! Make sure to let everyone know you’re from our guild!” 

I scurried off so as to not have to put up with any more of her ceaseless prattle. 

 

“All right, the four of us are going to this dinner party!” I declared upon our return to the inn. “We should be able to pick up information we wouldn’t get at the guild, so that alone is a good enough reason for us to attend. I want you to take this chance to gather any intelligence you can about the Dukedom of Schtraut, especially the current political climate. If you happen to learn anything about their diplomatic relations, that’ll be perfect. The Arachnea’s fate depends on our ability to adequately understand their international standing.” 

Sérignan, Lysa, and the Masquerade Swarm nodded firmly at my words. Good. They understand how important the situation really is. 

“The biggest problem we have is that they might figure out our real identities. Lord Buffon misunderstood things, but pretending to be noble can be a challenge. Nobles seriously act like members of a secret society sometimes. A family crest, a motto, our political and personal relations... Those are things we can’t fabricate at this point in time. To that end, if we are approached about any of these topics, we’re going to say we’ve lost our memories due to trauma. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Sérignan. “While we could look into mimicking an existing noble family, basing our act on such unreliable information would be dangerous. It would be safer for us to claim we suffer from memory loss, so yes, let us go with that.” 

If we really wanted to, we could have the Swarms in Maluk look into a real noble house, but that ran the risk of someone happening to know them, even remotely. Like Sérignan said, the safer course of action was to feign amnesia. Of course, relying on it too much might rouse suspicion... but this was still the best approach we had. 

“Anyway, I’ll be giving each of you an assigned role. Sérignan, you’re my bodyguard. Lysa’s going to handle scouting. Masquerade Swarm, sorry, but I need you to secure us a way out. Have our other Masquerade Swarms spread out and gather around the reception hall.” 

Sérignan would stick to me for protection while Lysa scoped out the other guests’ bodyguards. The Masquerade Swarm would secure us a way out. I wanted all the Masquerade Swarms we’d planted in the city ready to cover for us if need be. 

Hmm... Come to think of it, something doesn’t seem right here. It feels less like we’re going to a dinner party and more we’re gearing up for a special operation. 

“We have a couple of problems, however. Firstly, we don’t know who to speak to if we want valuable information. If we just randomly ask around, it’ll seem unnatural, but we’ve got no choice but to take that risk. We need to hope whomever we strike up a conversation with is important enough to know a thing or two.” 

We didn’t know the names or faces of any of the Dukedom’s VIPs, so we had no way of telling a noble with key information apart from an owner of some small trade guild who knew nothing of value. This wasn’t a roleplaying game where we could talk to every NPC—that would just look suspicious. We’d need to zero in on a few promising targets and then stick with them. 

“And our other problem has to do with your outfits.” I heaved a sigh. “Sérignan, can you take off your armor?” 

“I’ll try!” 

She wasn’t wearing her red armor, exactly; it was part of her body. Taking it off would be a herculean task. Could she really fit into a dress? 

“Nnngh...!” 

Sérignan concentrated as hard as she could, trying to pry off the armor. At last, the plates came off, falling on the ground with a heavy thunk. 

“Is this all right, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked me, nude as a newborn baby. 

“Sérignan,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “Your boobs are bigger than I thought. And you have a bangin’ body.” 

“You’re really beautiful, Sérignan!” Lysa cried. 

I was always thin and seedy, but being aged down to fourteen only made my body all the more unshapely. Still, the fact that Sérignan had bigger breasts than I did hit me like a ton of bricks. Crawling under the covers and willing the heat death of the universe to come over us all felt pretty tempting. 

“A-Are you all right, Your Majesty?” Sérignan asked, sensing my envy through the collective consciousness. “Should I shear off my bosoms?” 

“No, don’t. But I’m letting you handle seduction from now on.” 

I’ll be putting Sérignan’s unexpected assets to good use. 

“Now, Lysa, can you remove your clothes?” 

“Yes, they come off fine.” 

Apparently, despite the fact that the clothes Lysa was wearing when she entered the Conversion Furnace had fused to her body, she was able to remove them without issue. 

“Masquerade Swarm, how about you?” 

“Will this do?” The Masquerade Swarm’s appearance distorted slightly, like a glitch in the air, and it suddenly wore nothing but underwear. 

Truly a master of Mimesis. I’m sure things will go smoothly. 

“Okay, then our next mission is to go and get you all party clothes. Sérignan, I got you some regular clothes ahead of time, so wear those when you go out. Lysa, be careful your ears don’t show. And Masquerade Swarm... You’ll be fine, I think.” 

“Yes. To receive clothes from my queen... I’m truly honored.” Sérignan said. 

I figured Sérignan might end up naked if she took off her armor, so I bought her a set of everyday clothes from a tailor, thinking it would prevent complications later on. Turns out I was right. 

“Anyway, go select your evening clothes tomorrow. Prepare accordingly. That’s all for today.” 

Sheesh. I didn’t think getting clothes ready for a party would be such a hassle. 

 

“So this is the place Lord Buffon told us about.” 

The four of us had followed the instructions Lord Buffon had given us and eventually reached his store. 

“There’re a lot of expensive-looking dresses on display.” Lysa gawked at the storefront with sparkling eyes. 

“Well, it’s the count’s treat, so pick anything you like,” I said and walked into the store. 

“Hello there. May I help you?” said the shopkeeper. 

She was wearing a light dress herself, and she spoke to us respectfully. The level of customer service made it clear we were in a high-class establishment. 

“We came here at Lord Buffon’s recommendation. Could you help us?” 

“Yes, I’ve been informed of your arrival. I would be honored to be of service to a friend of the count.” 

Uh, we’re definitely not his friends. 

“Perfect, then I’ll save the explanation. Could you show us around?” 

“Of course. Right this way, please.” 

Sérignan and the others stepped forward automatically. Sérignan’s current outfit was a crimson pinafore dress. It didn’t suit her very well, oddly enough, but she liked it nonetheless. I didn’t have much of a fashion sense. 

“Miss Sérignan, what kind of dress would you like?” 

“One that’s easy to move in. A dress I could wear while wielding a sword.” 

“Erm, we are talking about an evening dress, right?” 

“Yes, that’s right. If possible, I’d appreciate some armor around the chest and abdomen. I don’t mind if it adds weight.” 

Apparently, she couldn’t tell a dress apart from a suit of armor. 

“Sérignan, stop bothering the poor clerks with your crazy demands. Could you get her a mature dress, please? One that’s got some cleavage and an open back. I want her to be the most enticing flower at the party.” 

“Understood.” One of the employees headed deeper into the store with her to find her a suitable dress. 

“What about you, Miss Lysa? What kind of dress are you looking for?” 

“Umm... something that’s a bit plainer than the dress our lady here will be wearing,” Lysa said shyly, gesturing to me. “I’m just one of her servants.” 

I guess that’s the most she can manage. 

“Very well.” At her signal, another clerk ushered Lysa along. “And as for you, Mister Maska, will this one do?” 

“Yes. It is fine.” 

The Masquerade Swarm had been the first to finish its preparations. It was standing in front of the mirror, looking simply dashing in a tuxedo. 

Aren’t you a stud. 

“Miss Grevillea... You don’t need a new dress, I see.” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

The Worker Swarms had made me plenty of gorgeous dresses, so I didn’t have any problems on that front. I was currently wearing one of them. 

“May I ask where you got that dress?” 

“This one? It’s from, err, a tailor in the Kingdom of Maluk, in a town called Leen.” 

That store doesn’t exist anymore, though. Courtesy of yours truly. 

“I can’t see any seams, and it looks like it was cut from a single sheet of fabric... and gosh, this texture feels like silk. On top of that, its design is bolder than anything even the most imaginative designers on the continent would dare to make. Thinking that the place this dress came from has been destroyed breaks my heart.” 

“Agreed.” 

If those knights hadn’t stuck their noses where they didn’t belong, things would have been much different. Yes, if that hadn’t happened, I’d still be expanding peacefully by selling dresses and buying meat. If only those thugs who’d called themselves knights hadn’t shown up and burned down my precious Baumfetter... Still, wars have a way of breaking out even when no one wants them. 

“Miiiiiiss!” Sérignan came running from the back of the store with tears in her eyes. “Look at what this woman is trying to get me to wear! It’s shameless! I don’t look like a knight; I look like a prostitute!” 

Sérignan was wearing what was, admittedly, a really racy dress. It was open at the back and showed a lot of cleavage, and its lower half featured a slit that exposed her pale thighs. 

Wowzers. 

Knowing Sérignan, I had to admit the look was a bit much. Still, she pulled it off while looking refined rather than sleazy, though I wasn’t sure if it was the designer’s efforts paying off or Sérignan’s natural looks shining through... I hoped it was the latter. Once again, I realized that Sérignan was seriously gorgeous. 

“It looks good on you, Sérignan. How about you take it?” 

“It does not look good on me!” she huffed. “I need something more fitting of a warrior!” 

But it really did look good on her. She exuded a mature aura I couldn’t dream of producing myself. 

“Then just ask for one that shows off less skin. Not a normal dress, though; we’re trying to capitalize on your seduction skills here.” 

“Ugh... Understood...” 

It took us an hour and a half or so to pick out the right dresses. 


“So you like this one, Lysa?” 

“Yes! I feel like a princess.” 

Lysa was wearing a demure green dress. It didn’t expose much skin, but it was adorned with gorgeous frills, which sent Lysa over the moon. She liked dressing up, as girls often did. I was glad Lysa had taken the chance to enjoy herself a little. 

“And Sérignan, isn’t it about time you give up?” 

“I... have never felt so humiliated in my life.” 

Sérignan ended up going with a red dress that was somewhat less showy than the one she’d donned earlier. Despite that, it still had noticeable cleavage and showed off her thighs. Honestly, any man who wouldn’t fall for her while she wore this thing probably didn’t have a thing for women at all. 

“It suits you. Everyone at the party will have their eyes on you. I’ll be counting on you to sweep all the men off their feet.” 

“But such a mission is...” Unable to bring herself to finish, she trailed off miserably. 

It may have looked like I was bullying the poor woman on purpose, but seduction really would be an important task during our intelligence operation. 

“Anyway, I think we’re all finished here. We’ll be taking our leave, if you don’t mind. Thank you for all your help!” 

“Don’t mention it. I’m honored to have been of assistance to a friend of the count.” 

Having said our goodbyes, the four of us left the shop. The party was tomorrow night, and we were prepared. All we could do now was hope we turned up some useful information. 

 

We entered the carriage Lord Buffon had sent to pick us up and made way for the reception hall. He had been kind enough to pick us up from the inn so we wouldn’t accidentally get lost in Marine. 

In fact, it was so kind of him that I had to question his intentions; Sérignan and Lysa were two very lovely ladies, after all. In any case, we sat patiently in the jostling carriage as it headed toward the hall. 

“We’re here.” 

The reception hall was a large structure made of white limestone and surrounded by a vast, spacious garden. It was built upon the tallest part of Marine and offered a view of both the town and the ships sailing at the port. A perfect spot for welcoming guests, indeed. We exited the carriage and walked up to the entrance, where we were greeted by a butler. 

“May I check your invitations?” 

“Yes, here you are. I’m Grevillea, by the way,” I said as the four of us handed them over. 

“Ah, Miss Grevillea’s group. Yes, your invitations are in order. Please, come in.” 

We were ushered into the hall. The inside of the structure was as lovely as its outside. A large chandelier shone from the ceiling, and a red carpet was spread over the floor. All around us were clean, white marble walls and sculptures. 

“This place is gorgeous,” I murmured. “It really does feel like a palace for the elite.” 

“I agree! It’s the first time I’ve seen anything like this. I almost thought it was a temple or something,” said Lysa, nodding. 

“Should you find our base lacking, we can renovate the place accordingly,” Sérignan suggested. 

“No, it’s all right. A soft bed with clean sheets is all I need.” 

I could have asked the Worker Swarms to make our base much more lavish, but wasting their time for the sake of my own self-satisfaction didn’t seem right. Especially right now, when they had the onerous task of remodeling all of Maluk’s territory. 

There were mines for us to pick, farms and livestock to maintain, and the defense of our borders to attend to. Redirecting the Worker Swarms from those important tasks to an aesthetic remodeling of our base would be wrong. Unlike this hall, no guests would ever visit our base, so it really would just be for my own selfish enjoyment. 

“Anyway, let’s move according to plan. Lysa, scope the place out. Masquerade Swarm, secure us an exit. Sérignan, come with me.” 

With that, we split up. Lysa casually observed the guards while the Masquerade Swarm hung around the back entrance. There were additional Masquerade Swarms set up around the building, too. If things took a turn for the worse, we could at least bust out of here. 

“Pardon me.” 

Just as Sérignan and I were preparing to ask around for information, someone called out to us. 

“I haven’t seen you around. What house might you hail from, milady?” 

A handsome man approached me. His arrogant gaze told me he regarded us as little more than a couple of silly little girls. 

“My name is Grevillea,” I answered. “I’m from no family in particular; I’m just an adventurer.” 

“Oh, the adventurer? I’ve heard all the gossip—apparently, your group is highly skilled. Though I must admit you don’t quite look the part.” He cracked a thin, condescending smile. 

Sérignan glared at him so intensely, I was fairly confident she’d cut his head off if she’d had a sword in her hands. 

“And who might you be?” I asked with a hint of annoyance. 

“Ah, my apologies. I’m Marquis Leopold de Lorraine, twelfth head of House Lorraine. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Unreliable Master Adventurer.” 

Everything about this guy ticks me off. 

“Well, I suppose I might look unreliable, but that’s because I’m a commander, not a fighter. The one who handles all the hands-on work is this lady right here, Sérignan.” 

“Ah, a woman who uses a sword!” Leopold exclaimed in an exaggerated fashion. “What a world we live in.” 

Okay, wow, what a douche. 

“Anyhow, I would love to hear the true story,” Leopold continued. “I hear you’re actually paying other adventurers so you can take credit for their achievements... They say you’re nothing but pitiful refugees from Maluk who bought accomplishments from others to make it into this dinner party. The guild is a perfect place for a commoner to elevate their status, after all.” 

“How dare you!” Incensed, Sérignan made to step forward. 

“Sérignan, restrain yourself,” I told her. “Don’t fall for his provocations. He’s just a third-rate noble spouting nonsense.” 

“Excuse me?!” This time, Leopold flared up at me. “Did you just call me a third-rate noble?! I’ll have you know I was on the cusp of being elected last season for the Duke of Schtraut!” 

Whoops, looks like I got under his skin a little too much... 

I had intended to ignore this nobody’s words and move along, but I only ended up digging myself deeper into trouble. 

“Oh, I see. So you’re actually a bigwig, huh?” I said, trying to fix things. “But to be frank, Lord Lorraine, I don’t think your attitude and your status match up at all. You really need to polish your character, you know? If you keep acting like that, even commoners like myself will end up looking down on you.” 

This, of course, only added fuel to the fire. 

“I’ll remember this indignity! Once we retake Maluk, I’ll see to it that all your territories are confiscated! And I’ll make sure any Maluk refugees like you are repatriated, even if your country is infested with monsters!” 

“Oh no. Whatever shall I do?” I replied dryly. 

Naturally, I couldn’t care less about either of these threats. 

“And to top it all off, I’ll take that knight of yours and sell her into slavery! Look at that body; she’ll make good money at the brothel. I’ll make sure to visit myself, so you would do well to service me to the best of your ability.” 

“What?!” Now I was seething. “If you’re going to insult Sérignan, you’d better lock blades with her first. Not that I expect much out of you. Your scrawny arms would probably snap like twigs if you tried.” 

“You dare insult me further?! She can try holding up a sword if she wants, but I would never be bested by a woman! I am—” 

“Enough.” In a flash, Sérignan’s right arm caught Leopold by the neck. “May I snap it, Miss?” 

“Don’t go that far. I think he’s learned his lesson.” 

Having been grabbed at the vitals with a swiftness nigh invisible to the naked eye, Leopold hung limply in terror. 

“Leopold! What are you doing?!” 

A young man’s voice and trotting footsteps reached our ears. 

“These rude women taunted me, trying to pick a fight!” whined the headlocked noble. “Have someone throw these have-nots out of the party!” 

“Calm down, Leopold. You started this fight, didn’t you? I can’t imagine these two fine ladies antagonizing you for no reason.” 

The man who had come over to calm Leopold down bore a striking resemblance to him. 

“You’re right, he’s the one who started it,” I said indignantly. “We only responded to him in kind.” 

“I see.” The man lowered his head. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Roland de Lorraine, Leopold’s younger brother. A pleasure, miss.” 

Huh. So he’s not a bigot like his brother. 

“I’m Grevillea, and this here is Sérignan. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Meeting manners with manners was only fair. 

“Come now, let’s go, Leopold.” Roland led his brother away. “We don’t want any more arguments, do we?” 

“Blast. I won’t forget this!” Leopold took off after him, leaving that cliched one-liner as his parting remark. 

“You should have allowed me to cut that man down, Miss. With the way he treated you, even death is too sweet a fate for him.” 

“Eh, all’s well that ends well,” I shrugged. “That nice guy cleared it up for us. I’m not going to hold a grudge.” 

“You’re too kind, Miss. Ruthlessness is sometimes necessary.” 

“Going on a rampage here would ruin everything. You do know that, right, Sérignan?” 

“Erm, yes. My apologies.” 

Besides, I was ruthless enough when I buried the Kingdom of Maluk. 

“Everyone, may I have your attention please?” The sound of someone—apparently the toastmaster—tapping on their glass rung out. “His Grace, the thirteenth Duke of Schtraut Caesar de Sharon, is about to make his appearance!” 

With that introduction, a young man took to the stage. 

“Thank you all for inviting me to this fine affair. I’m glad to say this has been quite the pleasant evening. It’s always an honor to find the time and place to speak to people of fine taste and upbringing such as yourselves. This party is yet another great chance to develop the Dukedom.” 

As I listened to the duke’s speech, I looked around the room. Leopold was eyeing Caesar hatefully. 

“After the fall of our neighbor, the Kingdom of Maluk, we can only pray that we will overcome the harsh times ahead of us. And of course, we must praise the name of our great nation. All hail the Dukedom of Schtraut!” 

“All hail the Dukedom of Schtraut!” the audience cried, following his example. 

“Your Majesty, is that the man we’re after?” 

“That’s right. I do hope we can meet with him peacefully.” 

I didn’t come here to handle small-fry like Leopold, but people with authority, like Caesar de Sharon. 

“But it looks like approaching him will be difficult...” 

Caesar was surrounded by guests, so we couldn’t exactly walk right up to him. 

“All right, then. Sérignan, you’re up.” 

“Me?” Sérignan pointed at herself with a bewildered expression. 

“Listen to me, Sérignan. I know it’s a bit of a tall order, but try to keep your knightly behavior suppressed for now. You’re going to have to fight this battle using weapons I don’t have. And it’s very important.” 

“Understood, Miss. But, erm, whatever could I have that you lack? How am I to fight this battle?” 

Evidently, she didn’t get it yet. 

“Use your body, Sérignan. I’m sorry I have to ask you to do this, but please.” With a sigh, I pushed her forward. 

 

“Your Grace, our country really is in a dire situation.” 

“Monsters to the west, the Nyrnal Empire to the south... We’re between a rock and a hard place, as they say.” 

The duke nodded vaguely at the guests’ words. It was hard to tell if he was actually interested in what anyone had to say. He was certainly listening attentively to each and every one of them, but whether he was actually engaged in the conversation was unclear. 

Perhaps he was merely exercising a politician’s natural gift to appear engrossed no matter who his conversational partner was. Handling politics sometimes required juggling one’s attention during these sorts of situations. 

“Your Grace...” 

He turned to find the owner of the voice—it was Sérignan. Her dress was as open and shameless as could be, and she was approaching him with a flushed face. The duke and everyone around him glanced at her in surprise before quickly averting their eyes from her cleavage. 

“Erm, who might you be? Have we met before?” Caesar asked, his face turning red. 

“We haven’t, Your Grace. But my lady would very much like to speak to you.” Sérignan pointed in my direction. 

“Ahh, I see. Then let me make some time for you... Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” 

As Caesar was a man, it only made sense that he would fall for Sérignan’s wiles. That said, I’d assumed a politician would be a bit more guarded. Maybe he’s more of a vulgar oaf than I thought. 

If he really was an oaf, though, that was fine with me; in fact, it would work out in my favor. I needed him to be a little stupid, or else he wouldn’t dare sit to negotiate with monsters. 

Lured in by Sérignan, Caesar approached me. I put on the best fake smile I could manage and greeted him. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I’m Grevillea, an adventurer.” 

“Oh, you’re the one people have been talking about. I hear you slew a griffin on your first day in the guild, then went on to exterminate a manticore. People on the streets have nicknamed you ‘the Queen’ or something of that nature. The Dukedom suffers quite a few losses to monster attacks, so any help you can offer is most appreciated.” 

“But on top of being an adventurer, I have another role. One that’s certainly relevant to your interests.” 

“Relevant to my interests...?” Caesar repeated, eyeing me with suspicion. 

“I’m actually the queen of the Arachnea. That is, I lead the legion of monsters that ruined the Kingdom of Maluk.” 

“What?!” His eyes widened in disbelief. 

The duke’s reaction was exactly what I had expected. He couldn’t have imagined that the girl pub-goers and guild members called a queen really was just that. If anyone had assumed it was true, of course, they would’ve had to be either insane or psychic. It would be similar to someone who had earned the title of “king” in some eating contest turning out to be genuine royalty. 

And yet here we were, the cold, hard reality hanging between us. His shock was understandable. 

“Can you prove it?” 

“I could have some of the monsters that destroyed Maluk—the Swarm—rush into this room right now if you want.” I gave the duke a nasty smile. “But I assume you’ll take my word for it even if I don’t do anything that extreme.” 

“Let’s talk this over in a separate room,” Caesar said. He led Sérignan and myself to another area of the reception hall. “You were right; this is absolutely relevant to my interests.” 

 

“Now then... queen of the Arachnea, was it? If I may, allow me to lead with this question: what was your reason for destroying the Kingdom of Maluk?” 

Caesar had shooed everyone else from the room, leaving only the three of us. 

“Oh, that’s a simple one,” I said lightly. “Retribution and instinct. I had a few elven friends who were needlessly killed by Maluk’s knights, so getting revenge for these friends of mine was part of it. As for the other reason... Well, I must inform you that the Arachnea is a barbaric race. Our instincts spur us to expand. The Swarm is a lovely collection of monsters that endlessly reproduce, devour, and expand.” 

“I can understand a desire for revenge, but instinct... Your instincts drive you to invade other countries?” 

“That’s right. We attack, feed, destroy, and pillage. Those are the instincts of the Swarm that guide the Arachnea. As the queen, I can suppress the unmerciful tide to some degree with my sense of reason. But if I’m gone, those shackles won’t hold the Swarm back anymore, and the Arachnea will become a hellish blaze that indiscriminately consumes everything in its path.” 

The Swarm naturally desired to ransack and slaughter in order to grow and conquer. At this point in time, my human characteristics of logic and judgment were all that prevented them from rushing the entire world. 

If something were to happen to me, that deterrent would disappear. I explained that to Caesar, making it clear that killing me wasn’t a way out of this. 

“And? Have you come to destroy the Dukedom next?” 

“That depends on the course of our negotiations here, Duke Sharon. I don’t seek to spill any unnecessary blood. I’m human, after all. Same as you.” 

I said this despite knowing full well how I had killed untold scores of my fellow men. I denied them even the last remains of their honor by reducing them to meatballs. A part of me wondered what right I even had to utter those words. 

I’m such a hypocritical charlatan. I call myself human now, after all that’s happened? 

“Then what would you ask of my country?” 

“I want you to provide me an invasion route into the Popedom of Frantz. We intend to attack the Popedom, and passing through this country would be the fastest way there.” 

The Popedom of Frantz was the headquarters of the Church of Holy Light, an exclusive, monotheistic faith. There was no doubt we’d have to fight them, which meant we needed to be prepared for war. In that regard, it was necessary for us to have the Dukedom of Schtraut, a topographically important region, under our control. 

However, a certain ruler once said, “My country is a nation, not a road.” 

“The Popedom is pressuring us with the same demand, actually. They want us to permit their military to march through our lands for the sake of liberating the Kingdom of Maluk. We’ve yet to answer, but eventually we’ll need to give them a reply.” 

So the Popedom came up with the same idea... 

“Then I suppose you’ll need to decide who to ally yourself with,” I told him, cracking a thin smile. “Though I must warn you that if you turn against us, your country will suffer the same fate as the Kingdom of Maluk.” 

“You’re putting us in a rather difficult position, madam. If we turn against the Popedom, that would be a blow in its own right. Their army isn’t to be scoffed at.” 

“Sounds like a real dilemma. I sympathize, but you’ll still have to make a decision one way or another. Side with us, or side with the Popedom of Frantz. And if you choose to abstain, well... you’ll probably be attacked by both of us.” 

I felt a bit bad for Caesar. He was pressed on one side by the army of monsters that had destroyed Maluk and by his fanatically religious neighbor on the other. Having to choose one over the other must have been difficult. 

Still, I needed him to make that choice. If he didn’t, he’d be attacked by both armies, and Schtraut would be reduced to scorched earth. That wasn’t something I wanted, either. I had grown a bit attached to this country, so I didn’t want to see it destroyed. 

“Additionally, the Empire of Nyrnal is breathing down our necks. They’re demanding to garrison troops within our borders. Their modus operandi when they took over the southern countries was de facto military occupation... They say that if we refuse, it’ll be tantamount to us ignoring the fact that monsters destroyed Maluk.” 

Oh my. The plot thickens. 

The Empire of Nyrnal was trying to take advantage of my throwing the political field into chaos. I had heard the Nyrnals were tyrants who’d devoured the southern countries, but it looks like they enjoyed pulling some underhanded tricks. 

Not that I’m one to talk about playing dirty. 

“Did the Empire give you a deadline?” 

“Yes. They want us to decide by the International Council.” He sounded bitter. 

“Oh? You have one of those?” 

“Yes. We haven’t convened in ten years, but the Council deals with problems pertaining to the continent at large. Our country’s part of it, of course. The council’s decisions have a great deal of impact and influence on the nations.” 

The International Council, huh? Knowing their verdict might be beneficial. 

“Then I’ll have to add a time limit for my request as well. I’ll wait until the International Council concludes. Make your choice after that. Do you let the Empire of Nyrnal garrison troops in your country, allow the Popedom to cross your land, or grant us passage?” 

“If I let you pass, the Empire of Nyrnal and the Popedom would likely both turn against me at once. What help can you offer us? Would you give us military aid if we were surrounded by your neighbors?” 

“We’d give you support, yes. Our army was strong enough to destroy the Kingdom of Maluk; we’re plenty capable of defending you even if Frantz and Nyrnal were to assault you from both sides. Well, if you ally with one of the other countries instead, that won’t change the end result. Either way, you will witness our ability to trample anyone in our path.” 

I was putting on a confident air, but I honestly didn’t know if I could afford to send enough forces to defend the Dukedom. If Frantz and Nyrnal turned against us at once, we’d need even more military power than before. It would be different from when we defeated the Kingdom of Maluk... and the Empire of Nyrnal, which had taken over the southern countries, was especially intimidating. 

Did the Arachnea have enough power to push back two countries at once? I didn’t know yet. But I had to say those words if I was going to convince Caesar. He wasn’t someone I needed to be completely honest with, and it wasn’t absolutely necessary he ally with us, either. 

“I want to believe you, but we have other issues at hand aside from diplomatic troubles. There is a faction here that supports letting the Popedom cross through our land to investigate Maluk. I’ve been working hard to oppose it.” 

“Hmm. You’re trying to prevent a war at all costs, aren’t you?” 

“Wars don’t make for good money. Fighting battles isn’t a merchant’s job.” 

That’s the kind of answer you’d expect to hear from a trade country. 

War wasn’t good for making money, that much was true. Unless, of course, one’s idea of economy involved slaughtering other people, devouring their flesh, and taking everything they had. 

“Out of curiosity, who’s behind that faction?” 

“House Lorraine has ties with the Popedom of Frantz. They’re the Popedom’s representatives, so to speak; they do not hail from Schtraut, but rather from Frantz.” 

Oh, Lorraine. That third-rate noble that picked a fight with us. 

“How can you get a political free hand?” 

“That’s technically impossible. All of the dukes in Schtraut’s history have been subject to other factions’ decisions to some extent.” 

Apparently, the head of state didn’t actually have that much power. What a pity. 

“What do you think is the ideal choice for your country?” 

“Well, obviously I don’t want to fight the ones who destroyed Maluk. And to top it off, Nyrnal and Frantz haven’t offered us any protection, either. The Popedom’s only looking to move their army through, while Nyrnal’s plotting to occupy us during the turmoil. With that in mind, teaming up with your side seems like the right course of action.” 

Good. So Caesar’s on our side, at least. 

“Would it be possible for us to attend the International Council, too?” I asked, knowing full well it was probably absurd. 

“You, attend the council...? As a representative of the Arachnea? I think it would be far too difficult.” 

“Then how about I attend as the representative of the Kingdom of Maluk?” 

“You’d have to be from the Kingdom of Maluk to do that.” 

“I can take care of that part. Question is, can a supposedly ruined country participate?” 

“I’ll see if I can arrange it. I’ll consider your recompense later.” 

I hope whatever compensation he asks for isn’t too extreme. 

“Anyway, let us both put some thought into this situation for now and come to our own conclusions. That’s all I can say at this point,” said the duke, and our conversation was over. 

 

“Your Majesty, is this acceptable? We could simply march our forces into this country without any negotiations,” Sérignan said, seeming dissatisfied. 

“If we can solve a problem by talking our way out of it, we should,” I replied, rising from my seat. “If we used violence to smash through all our struggles, we’d end up forgetting how to use our heads. Besides, if they end up destroying the bridges and roads, we’ll lose our way of passage all too easily. Occupying this country without bloodshed would be best. The worst possible scenario is that the Dukedom ends up becoming the center of a war between Frantz and Nyrnal.” 

I really had developed some attachment to this country, and I didn’t want to see it ruined in a war... though I was prepared to let everything go up in flames if it were truly necessary. 

Sérignan and I thus returned to the dinner party, which concluded without us learning anything else of note. 

The Dukedom of Schtraut was in dire straits. Just where would fate take it...? 



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